Algol lay on his bed, staring at the ceiling, thinking about the events of yesterday and what he might do today.
A deep-seated melancholy had taken root in his soul, and the restlessness he felt forced him to get up and pace around his room.
After a while, he reached into his drawer and pulled out an envelope. He removed the contents and began counting: three one-hundred-dollar bills, each bearing the face of the current king, King Alderamin.
"This isn't enough," he muttered with a sigh.
Just then, there was a knock at the door.
Dreading who it might be, Algol walked slowly toward the door and opened it just enough to peek his dark eye out.
Standing there was a young girl, about eleven years old, with long, curly black hair.
"Hey," she said, her voice carrying a hint of irritation.
"Yeah?" Algol replied.
"I don't mean to interrupt whatever it is you're doing, but mother's going to need the five hundred that's due."
"Can you give me until the end of the week… no, maybe tomorrow. Yes, I'll have it by tomorrow," he said, pausing as if thinking it over.
The girl sighed. "But mother—"
"I'll have it by tomorrow," he cut her off, "maybe even by the end of today. I'll make the money today… yes, today. Today!" His voice grew louder as he repeated the word, startling the girl.
"I-I'll tell her," she said before turning and heading downstairs.
After closing the door, Algol rushed to his closet and grabbed his shield, iron sword, helmet, and cloak, hurriedly putting them on.
He glanced at the small mirror propped on the dresser.
Dark rings under his eyes, messy brown hair, disheveled stubble, and eyes filled with despair and self-loathing stared back at him. He attempted a smile but quickly grimaced in disgust and left the room.
After successfully avoiding his landlady, Algol made it out into the city.
Tall skyscrapers and blue city lights filled the skyline, while the hustle and bustle of people rushing about and horse-drawn carriages clattering over the cement overwhelmed his already frayed nerves.
But as he walked, his thoughts focused on one thing.
"Can I really do this?" he wondered. "Do I have the courage?"
He muttered to himself, "One cannot be brave without fear. Fear makes a brave act brave. Otherwise, it's just reckless. So, if I'm afraid, then maybe I can become…"
His voice trailed off, and then he snapped his fingers, laughing. "A hero!" he shouted. "I'll be a hero!"
His muttering, unintelligible to those passing by, had already made him seem drunk. His sudden outburst about being a hero only reinforced that impression.
Before he knew it, he was standing in front of an old, worn-down wooden building. He pushed through the double doors, greeted by the smell of beer, coffee, and other foods mingling in the air.
At the front desk, he spotted the young woman who oversaw the guild and its quests.
She was a girl of eighteen, the daughter of the guild keeper, who was often away drinking and wasting his time. Her name was Chiron, and she kept the guild running in his absence.
Algol always felt a bit intimidated by Chiron. She was well-endowed with voluptuous curves, and her auburn hair was braided into a long ponytail.
Taking a deep breath, Algol approached her.
"Hey," he said.
"Hello," she replied. "Did you get any sleep last night? It doesn't look like it."
"…" He stayed silent.
Chiron closed her eyes and held out her hand, a bluish glow emanating from her palm. When she opened her eyes again, her face held a sorry expression.
"You're too low on energy. I can't give you a quest until you rest up."
"Rest up?" Algol said, surprised. "But I got more sleep than usual last night—five hours instead of three."
Chiron smirked and giggled. "That's still not good. Adult males need seven to nine hours of sleep."
"Eh? Really?"
"Didn't they teach that at the academy? You probably just didn't pay attention."
Algol felt a twinge of offense—she was spot on.
"Is there anything I can do?" he pleaded.
"Your energy level is at one. You need at least a ten to take on any quests here."
Algol glanced at the quest board to his left, where a few adventurers were scanning for tasks. He sighed.
Just then, a young woman dressed in a priestess's outfit approached the counter behind him. Algol turned to see her. She had long, flowing blonde hair that reached her back, and her body was petite and slender—a stark contrast to Chiron's figure. She carried a staff with a pearl set into it and clutched a brownish piece of paper in her left hand. She looked timid.
"Huh," Algol said, eyeing her. "You're a priestess. Where's your guild?"
The maiden flinched at Algol's question, lowering her head slightly. "I-I don't have one."
"Priestesses are skilled in healing magic, though. What quest are you taking on by yourself with just healing magic?"
Algol snatched the paper from her hands, causing her to yelp.
"Slay twenty sewer rats? A thousand dollar reward?" Algol looked up at the priestess. "You can't do this alone. This is a team mission. Let me go with you!"
He was already scheming to take most of the reward for himself.
"Not so fast," came Chiron's voice from behind him.
Algol turned, seeing her annoyed expression. "You don't have enough energy. With your level so low, you won't be able to cast any spells."
"But—"
"I can replenish him," came the timid voice behind him.
Algol spun around. "Ah! Healing magic can do that?"
The priestess nodded.
Chiron sighed. "Well, I guess it can't be helped."
"May I?" the priestess asked timidly.
"Absolutely," Algol replied eagerly.
The maiden stepped back and extended her staff toward him, chanting softly. A golden glow enveloped Algol, and when it faded, the sluggishness he'd been feeling lifted, replaced by a renewed sense of energy.
"Test me now!" Algol said to Chiron, almost giddy.
Chiron sighed and extended her hand again, checking his energy. "You're at twenty now. But be careful—that's only enough for a few spells."
"I've got it, I've got it," Algol said hastily. "And I'll be taking this young lady as my teammate," he added, gesturing toward the priestess. "And your name is?"
"Spica," she said softly.
"Spica and I are gonna make a great team, aren't we, Spica?"
Spica just nodded as she stepped up to get her own energy level checked.
"All good," Chiron said. "Level fifty-five. You two are set."
Algol handed Chiron the paper, and she stamped it, handing it back to him. He rolled it up and tucked it into his pocket.
"Welp," he said, looking at Spica. "Shall we?"
She nodded, and the two of them exited the building.